My brother is 6 years old. His name is Xavier. He is tall for his age. I’m 16. I’m tall for my age. I could take him. Easy, but he strikes when you sleep.
A little back story. This all started when I was watching a parody of the movie scream. I was laughing at a death scene because it was super cartoonish. My brother which I didn’t know was in the room started laughing also. It was a creepy slow laugh. I looked at him. He’s a weirdo so it was nothing to off. I wasn’t too concerned.
My bedroom shares a wall with his. That night he kept slowly tapping on that wall. A slow drum like beat. I heard the same laughter. Eventually I got annoying with his bs so I walked out my room and bardged into his. He was sleeping but as he slept he has an abnormal smile. Teeth showing lips to ears.
The next morning I asked him about this and he denied everything but gave me the same smile and laugh. Later that day while I was at the sink he poked me with a needle. He then ran. Blood dripped down my leg. A weird amount. Alot. I ignored it though, but the next day when I woke up I had been pricked my needles over over my legs. My sheets were red. They smelt of death. My death.
He’s been following me. Not just at day. During when I lie in bed with my eyes open. When I dream. He’s there, his face mangled. Tears of joy stream down his face as he slowly presses his knife to my neck. It wakes me up. I can always feel the blood but never see it. I can smell it, hear it trickle down my neck. Feel it against my soft skin, it rolls down but is never seen.
I told my mom but she had seemed pale and almost zombie like so she didn’t really care. This happened the next few nights. Eventually he left letters and spoke to me in my dreams.
Last night was the worst though, he stood at my doorway holding a knife speaking in a low demonic voice. I’m scared. What if he comes after me tomorrow. Over the past few days he’s recently been strange. Today he’s been quoting the infamous chucky. His class sent home work they did in school today. My brother had put that he inspired to be like multiple horrible serial killers, dictators, and conquerors. I found a letter on my desk. It smelled of blood and the “ink” was red. It said one word. Tonight. Fear is currently eating me. It’s 9:30, darkness fills the outside. I can feel my throat closing, but not from panic. Like I’m being chocked. Maybe I’m going crazy. I’ve always been a little wacko, but I’ll try to sleep so I won’t know when the grim reaper comes for me. I hear the small cackling right now. The sound of metal scraping against the wall. The sound of tiny footsteps though it may just be a replay in my brain. Oh what’s happened to my brain. Nights been terror. Because that’s when he comes.